The Pokedex Initiative
by Akai Shi-Koret
Summary: This is likely to be the first in a series of fics written about Pokemon, exploring their various traits and mannerisms. While obviously similar to a Pokedex, I wanted to take a look from a pedestrian point of view.
1. Venusaur

"Bulbasaur is for losers, everyone says so," the boy said haughtily, looking down his nose at the old geezer. "My Charmander could beat one any day. My dad says so. Even Oak said I could win in a fight."

The old man gave him a look that was halfway between annoyance and pity. "Have you ever seen a Venusaur in the wild, son?" he asked quietly. "'Cause I have, and lemme tell ya – there en't many who have and come back to tell 'bout it. Sure, it looks slower'n hell just sittin' there, mindin' its own business, but you give that thing a scare and it'll be up and in your face faster'n you can throw a Pokeball. S'got a tough hide, tough enough t' take anything you throw at it, n'that thing's big enough to just run over you and trample you to death – if you survive being headbutted through a tree, that is.

"But that's not even the worse part, no sir. It's that plant. That huge-ass flower, it don' look so important when you're looking at it in pictures, but lemme tell ya – that thing is the reason why you leave a Venusaur alone. You get that thing even more pissed off than it already is – send out a Fire-type, mebbe – and these _vines_, these f*ckin' huge tendrils, just uncoil from that flower, and they're faster'n hell. I've seen a Venusaur cut someone in half with one of those things. "Power Whip" my ass. Call it Death Whip, they shoulda. And if you think you're gonna be smart and stay outta range – though how you did that's beyond me, no way in HELL you pull that shit off – but if you do, that f*cker just _shakes_ itself, and all those leaves on its back come off and they come at you faster'n you can blink. It's like a mother*ckin' leaf _machine gun_, that's what it is. 'F you're lucky, it'll just cut you up real bad. 'F you're unlucky – that thing's gonna flay the flesh from your bones without even needing to come in close.

"But all that? That's _nothin'_, son, compared to what that flower can do. That's just when it's pissed – now imagine if it's pissed _and_ threatened at the same time. That flower opens up and starts pumpin' all sorts of toxins out – the kind of shit that kills you before you even know it. Doesn' have to just kill you though, no sir – sometimes it just shuts down your nervous system, leaves you twitchin' on the ground while it stomps on your face, or sometimes it send you off to dreamland so you don't have to worry about watchin' as it finishes you off. And if you avoid the powders – well, that flower's got one more trick up its sleeve. It just takes in sunlight – and I mean a SHIT-ton of sunlight, just absorbs so much of the stuff that it's practically glowin' and you can't see shit – then just _unloads_ on you, pouring out so much heat and light that you'd think the f*ckin' sun was here on earth and it was _angry_. Ain't nothing that can take that much pure energy, sun. Not much, 'tleast.

"And lemme tell ya before you get going to me on your damn type charts – even Charizard are afraid of Venusaur. You only get Charizard messin' with these things if they're either cocky or desperate, and there aren't a lot that live to tell the tale. They don't wanna take the chance on bein' poisoned, or paralyzed, or with losin' a wing tryin' to take this thing out. There's a LOT of things out there that'd much rather leave 'em alone than try an' hunt 'em. Just not worth it.

"So if I was you, boy, I'd be a little less inclined to say how Venusaur's worth shit. Plenty of kids your age come outta Pallet with a Charmander or Squirtle, thinkin' they've got the best 'Mon out there only to get their asses whupped by their smarter friend who picked Bulbasaur. You best get training, boy. You're gonna need it."


	2. Rattata

"Alright Rattata, we did it!" Joey yelled, pumping his fist into the air in excitement. "That's another one!" The purple rat squeaked back at him, scurrying over and nuzzling its trainer's leg. It didn't appear tired at all, even though they'd been training for about an hour now. That last battle had been tough, but once the wild Rattata got too tired to dodge Joey's Rattata cleaned it out with a single Tackle. It was getting _really_ strong now.

"Man, you're really something, you know that?" Joey said, picking up the mouse and hugging it. The Rattata squeaked again, sniffing in its trainer's ear and making the boy giggle. He gently set the Pokemon down, watching with childish enthusiasm as the mouse took off for the tall grass, sniffing intently for its next opponent. Joey smiled. His mom had said that being a trainer took a lot of work and that he could never manage it, but so far he was doing well. His Rattata even went and found wild Pokemon by itself, without needing Joey's assistance. _Just wait,_ the Youngster thought. _I'll show you mom. Once me and Rattata are ready, we'll show you what we can do and then you'll _have _to let us go to Violet for the Gym challenge_. Even though all his friends had told him that the leader couldn't be beaten with such a common Pokemon, Joey felt confident that _his_ Rattata could do it. It was a lot better than the wild ones, at least, and probably better than any other Rattata on the route. In fact, it was probably even stronger than the strongest Rattata in the _world_. _Well, maybe not _that _good,_ Joey thought with a shrug, _but definitely up there. Like, in the top percentage of all Rattata_.

The thought made the boy smile again. "The top percentage of Rattata," he said aloud, enjoying the sound of the words as they rolled off his tongue. He liked it, and it was true after all. He had yet to find a Pidgey or Sentret that could best his Pokemon in a battle. _I gotta try and battle another trainer_, Joey thought suddenly. His mind immediately became consumed with the idea of challenging another kid and watching as his Rattata took down their Pokemon, one by one. The thought of beating someone else – and then being able to brag about it to his parents – was immensely satisfying for the youngster. _And that'll be a _WAAY _better way to prove that I'm ready for the gym_, Joey thought excitedly. Suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to find someone NOW. "Rattata!" he called out into the grass as loud as he could. "Come on back Rattata! We gotta go find a trainer!" He waited for a few seconds before calling again, stamping his foot impatiently. "Come _on _ Rattata, we gotta go NOW!" The boy rocked back and forth on his heels, standing up as tall as he could to try and see over the tall grass. If Rattata didn't hurry up they wouldn't be able to find anyone to battle and he'd have to go home.

With a rush of leaves, the purple mouse reappeared, scurrying over to Joey and squeaking again. Joey sighed in relief, smiling. "Now let's go find a trainer," he said, turning away from the grassy field towards the dirt path they'd followed from Cherrygrove City. His eyes caught a flash of movement from farther down the road and Joey realized that someone was coming. "Oh look, here comes someone now!" he exclaimed happily, clapping his hands together. "Okay Rattata, you ready?" he asked his companion. The rodent replied excitedly as well, its tail wagging back and forth. "Let's wait here and challenge them when they get close," Joey told his partner. He stood eagerly on the side of road, watching as the other trainer drew closer. This was going to be the best day ever. With his _top percentage_ Pokemon, no one could beat him.


	3. Arbok

Barry hadn't noticed the two individuals who'd slipped after him upon his departure from the Pokemon Center. He'd been too busy with nursemaiding his Meowth and organizing his bag to pay attention to much else. However, as he finally stowed the last Potion away, Barry noticed the skin on the back of his neck prickling with the familiar sensation of being watched. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing nothing in the streets save for two people, a man and a woman wearing black coats, walking behind him. They were looking at him intently and Barry turned back around quickly before meeting their gaze. _Are they trainers?_ he wondered briefly, feeling uneasy. _Maybe they're just looking for a battle_. But it was awful late to be asking for a fight now, and Barry didn't like the look of the pair. _Just keep walking home_, he thought to himself. Only a couple blocks away was his house, and his mom would be waiting for him. _If they ask me to battle I'll tell them that I'm late to dinner._

Barry stooped down, picking up his Meowth in his arms and quickening his pace. The cat squirmed in his arms restlessly, protesting loudly, but the youngster ignored her. She hated being picked up, but Barry couldn't wait for her. _Just keep going_, he thought to himself, shifting the cat in his arms. "Quiet, girl," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder again. The pair behind him were still there, and to Barry's eyes it looked like they were getting closer. He took a quick look at their waist, but couldn't see the familiar spheres that would indicate Pokeballs. _So maybe not trainers_, he thought, though being stalked by people who weren't just looking for a battle was even scarier. _What do they want from me?_ Barry glanced down at the Meowth still struggling in his arms, a sudden thought slipping into his mind and sending a chill down his spine. _What if they're after my Pokemon?_

He made his mind up seconds, shifting the Meowth to his right arm while he reached for his belt with his left. His fingers scrabbled along his waist, searching for the Pokeball he knew was there. "Come on," he muttered anxiously, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts. It had been cold when he left the Center, but suddenly Barry could feel perspiration forming on his forehead. The Meowth was meowing louder now, scratching his arms horribly, but Barry held on tightly. The thought of losing his first Pokemon – and his _only_ Pokemon – was too much for him. He couldn't imagine not having her weight pressing on his chest as he fell asleep, nor waking up in the morning and not finding her there. Part of his mind whispered that he was overreacting, but Barry brushed the voice away like he wiped away the sweat from his brow. Losing her wasn't an option.

His hand finally closed around the cool, round surface of the Pokeball. With a panicked sigh he pulled it loose, aiming the sphere at the still-writhing Meowth. Before he could trigger the return mechanism though, the feline Pokemon slipped out of his graps, gracefully bounding to the pavement and moving a few paces away before turning back and giving him an annoyed look. As Barry went to aim the ball at the Pokemon again his hand slipped on the cold sphere's surface and that slid out of his hands too. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," he muttered, dropping to his hands and knees. The dim light of the nearby streetlamp was just barely enough to see by, let alone find the small object. He swept the rough surface with his hands desperately, all the while the footsteps behind him drew nearer. Just when Barry thought he was done for, his right hand finally brushed up against the Pokeball's surface and with a cry of relief the young trainer seized it, recalling his Meowth a second later.

"My my, you should be more careful with that," a voice from behind him said as Barry leapt to his feet. The trainer turned around to see the pair of cloaked individuals standing mere feet away, looking down on him with cold eyes. "You wouldn't want to lose your Pokeball, after all."

Barry backed away a few paces, clutching the Meowth's ball tightly. "Go away," he said in a shaky voice. "I'm not afraid of you." His legs were trembling underneath his body and Barry tried to force himself to stand up straighter. _Just go away, just go away,_ he thought feverishly.

The woman laughed then, a high-pitched noise that sounded nothing less than sinister to the young trainer's ears. "At least you have courage, I'll give you that," she said, smiling at him. "Let's remedy that, shall we?" Her hand disappeared inside her coat, returning with a familiar-looking red-and-white sphere. "Come out, Venom." With a burst of red light a long black shape appeared from the ball, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. As Barry watched in terror the shape slowly coiled up before him, rising until it stood a good two feet above his head. From the depths of the creature's purple cowl, a pair of yellow eyes gleamed menacingly and Barry heard a hiss emanating from the creature before him. He tried to run, but his legs seemed rooted in place. All he could do was stare deeper into the eyes of the snake and shiver in fear. Panicked thoughts swirled through his brain, each one more desperate than the last: _Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, I have a family, don't take my Pokemon please, just let me go home, I'll be good…_

"I don't think you've seen one of these before, so let me explain," the woman's voice came suddenly, sweet as a rose and cold as a dagger. "This is an Arbok. They come from the southeastern jungles, near Fuschia City. It's been said that the ancient people used them as silent assassins, since they can sneak through spaces that humans can't fit through. Their poison is potent enough to stop a heart within three minutes, though it may take longer depending on the snake's mood when it makes a kill. So long as you keep eye contact and don't move, Venom here will leave you alone. Try anything though, and… well, let's just say that you'll get to experience an Arbok's poison firsthand."

Barry tried to stand as straight as he could, ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes and trying not to shiver. He desperately wanted to look away from those cold, reptilian eyes but at the same time knew that as soon as he did he'd be killed. The snake's tongue flickered in and out of its mouth, tasting the air and smelling the fear on the boy, all the while hissing menacingly. The human's life meant nothing to it – he was hardly a meal, but he was small and annoying. The snake opened its mouth slowly, unfolding along with it a pair of razor fangs longer than Barry's middle finger. A dark fluid dripped steadily from the bone-white teeth, pooling on the pavement below where it hissed and sputtered. At the sight of the Arbok's dark maw Barry forgot to breath, so terrified he was. _Make it stop, make it stop, Arceus, make it stop_…

"Take his Pokemon," the woman said curtly to her companion. Barry felt a hand close around his wrist and another grab the Pokeball containing his Meowth. _No, don't take that, please don't take that_, Barry thought hysterically, but he didn't dare move, not while the creature was still staring at him. He felt the sphere ripped from his grasp finally with a small chuckle from the man and suddenly his vision blurred with unbidden tears, though whether it was from sadness or from going too long without blinking he couldn't tell. "Meowth," he moaned softly, opening and closing the fingers of his suddenly empty hand. _Please no, this can't be happening_…

"Excellent," the woman said. "Thank you for cooperating. Return, Venom." The yellow eyes vanished suddenly and Barry fell to his knees, weakly panting for breath. Tears were falling fast down his cheeks now, but he didn't dare say anything to the woman or the Arbok would come back. He stared at the pavement, his heart breaking as tears peppered the ground. "Nothing personal, kid," the man said. "Go catch yourself another one." Something small and round clanked on the ground in front of Barry and as the youngster raised his eyes he found a black-and-red Pokeball, emblazoned with a crimson "R", resting in front of him.

The boy waiting until the footsteps vanished, staring at the ball as he cried.

* * *

><p><span>Author's notes:<span> I am a horrible person

In the real world, Arbok are probably totally BADASS. It's a shame that they suck in the games – otherwise I'd always run one on my team. Seems like they're a good choice for TR too- since they're based off an Italian mafia, Arbok allow them to intimidate rivals or can be used for subterfuge. Disclaimer: The TR goons in this story were in no way, shape or form meant to be Jessie and James.


	4. Fearow

The grassy fields of Route 1 stretched out before the two trainers, green blades dancing softly in the wind. Cassie grinned happily at the wide open spaces, clapping her hands together. "It's so pretty!" she exclaimed. "Do you think there are many Pokemon out there, Jeffy?" she asked her partner, who was still eyeing the fields suspiciously.

Jeff took a hesitant step into the swaying green grass, eyes scanning to make sure nothing was about to jump out and attack him. "I bet there are," he said, trying to make his voice sound strong but failing. His Bulbasaur waited behind him, peering past its trainer's legs to gaze anxiously into the green forest of grass beyond. "Do we HAVE to walk through this?" he asked, stepping backwards suddenly. "Is there a path or something we can walk on?"

"Of COURSE we have to go through it, silly!" Cassie said exasperatedly. "That's the POINT of being a trainer." She liked Jeffy a lot, but the boy could be so hesitant sometimes. It was kind of annoying, really – this morning he even didn't want to go visit Professor Oak to get their Pokemon! "Now come on, let's go!" she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the tall grass. "Richie is probably waaaay far ahead of us now!"

Jeff lurched forwards, taking a few steps into the grass before he yanked his arm free. "I'm going, I'm going!" he protested, flicking a desperate glance back at the packed dirt of the trail behind him. It was too late to back out now. "Stay close to me, Bulbasaur," he said quietly to the reptile. He'd heard there were Rattata and Pidgey and things out here and he didn't want to be caught without his starter. Hesitantly the young boy began walking through the chest-high sea of grass, moving after his friend. Cassie had run way up ahead, her Squirtle panting with the effort of keeping up. "Why is she so excited?" the boy grumbled as he trudged forwards. "It's not like Pokemon are just going to pop out of –"

With a rustle of movement a small shape shot up into the sky from somewhere in the grass ahead of Jeff, sending the boy crashing back down onto his rear in fright. His Bulbasaur stumbled back a few paces as well, yelping in surprise. "Just a Pidgey," he said aloud to himself as the tiny bird winged away across the field. "It's only a Pidgey." His heart was hammering and he was breathing hard. For a second he thought it had been something horrible – maybe even a Muk – but it was nothing to be afraid of. Right?

"Oh _wow_ Jeffy, you found a Pokemon already?" Cassie shouted as she raced back towards her friend, her voice filled with excitement and a little bit of jealousy. "Did you throw a Pokeball at it? Did it hurt your Pokemon at all? Oh _wow_, this is so neat!"

"No, it flew away," Jeff replied, picking himself up off the ground and wiping his hands delicately on his jeans. "It wasn't a battle or anything," he said, blushing slightly. His first Pokemon encounter and he'd made a fool of himself. _Maybe Mom was right_, he thought. _Maybe I should have stayed home and become a doctor_.

Cassie's face fell somewhat at her friend's story, but perked right up. "Well that's okay, we can find some more, right?" she said eagerly. "Now let's go! No more falling down." She grabbed Jeff's arm again and pulled him off with her through the grass, their Pokemon following at their heels. Jeff sighed deeply, but allowed Cassie to drag him along. He might as well get this over with sooner or later.

For the better part of an hour the two kids wandered through Route One, exploring the grassy fields and wandering about while getting used to their new Pokemon. They each found a few more Pokemon, though neither of the two managed to catch them, and enjoyed the brilliant spring sunlight. Jeff found himself getting more and more comfortable with wandering the outdoors as the morning went on and Cassie was always by his side and ready to help or encourage him if he wavered. _I think I'm starting to like this trainer deal_, he thought as he chased Cassie through the field, his Bulbasaur frantically running behind him with shouts of exertion.

Finally, the two kids collapsed in heap, lying down amidst the green blades of the field and staring up into the sky as they tried to catch their breath. "This is fun, huh?" Cassie said contentedly, rubbing her Squirtle's shell with one hand.

Jeff said nothing, but sighed in response. "It sure is," he said a second later. Despite what his parents had told him, he'd had nothing but fun today. There hadn't been any thunderstorms, or savage Pokemon, or cruel trainers – nothing except the warm sunlight, the swaying grass and his friend. _Maybe I won't have to go home_, he thought excitedly. _Maybe I can just go all the way to the next town, and travel the world._ The thought was immensely appealing to him. No more babysitters, no more tutors, no more eating his peas at dinner…

"What's that?" Cassie asked, pointing up at something in the sky. Jeff craned his neck to look, shading his eyes as he followed Cassie's finger. The black shadow of a bird hung high in the sky, gliding serenely above the two trainers.

"Some kind of bird, I guess," Jeff said, trying to make out the exact shape of the bird. He couldn't quite place the appearance, but he couldn't think of what it might be. His pocket guide to Pokemon had mentioned Pidgey as the only Flying-type on this route, and while Pidgeotto sometimes appeared as well they certainly didn't fly that high. "Come on, let's get moving again," he said, forgetting about the mysterious shadow. "I wanna see if we can find the end of the route before dark."

"Ooh, that's a _great_ idea Jeffy!" Cassie exclaimed, leaping up to her feet. "Come on Squirtle, let's go! I'll race you there!" With a wild whoop the girl took off running, arms held wide open as though she was trying to fly. Jeff grinned, pushing himself up and calling to his Bulbasaur before taking off after her as well. This was going to be fun.

As he ran after Cassie though, the sky suddenly got darker all of a sudden. Jeff frowned for a second, thinking that the darkness would pass, but when it didn't he glanced upwards. The boy recognized a huge, orange-feathered wing, just before something hit him in the back and knocked him over in the grass. His head hit the ground and Jeff suddenly tasted blood. _What was that?_ he thought dazedly, rising slowly to his feet.

From a distance he heard Cassie scream. "Jeffy, watch out!" the girl yelled, her voice high-pitched with fear. Jeff turned around, just in time to see a mass of orange feathers and one very long, very sharp beak headed for him at what seemed like terminal velocity. The boy took a step backwards, tripped over a rock and fell, just as a pair of talons raked the air where his eyes had been. As the bird passed overhead Jeff stood up, watching the creature ascend lazily into the sky with gentle flaps of its wings. Jeff had never seen a Pokemon like that before, but it clearly was trying to kill him.

"Run Jeffy, _RUN_!" Cassie screamed from behind the boy. With one last glance at the steadily rising bird, Jeff turned and sprinted for the girl, who was standing underneath a nearby copse of trees. Her Squirtle was bouncing up and down next to her, cheering on Jeff in its own language. The sight was so comical Jeff almost laughed aloud, but then he remembered the huge bird and the mirth died in his throat.

A second later, he froze in his tracks, fear flooding his veins. "Bulbasaur," he said aloud. He'd forgotten his Pokemon. Where had it gone? He glanced frantically around, trying to spot the green reptile among the swaying grass, but saw nothing immediately. "Bulbasaur!" he shouted, glancing up in the sky again. Cold panic gripped his gut. If he lost his Pokemon, his first one ever…

The grass suddenly rustled about twenty yards away and Jeff heard the faint cry of his Bulbasaur. The boy plunged forwards, running as fast as he could through the grass towards the spot. When he finally reached the origin of the ripple of grass, Jeff gasped in horror, clapping his hands to his mouth. Three long scratches decorated his Bulbasaur's side, oozing brilliant red blood that pooled on the ground below. For a second he couldn't remember his Pokemon being attacked by the bird, but then he remembered ducking and watching the talons go over his head and realized that he hadn't been the target. His Bulbasaur had taken the hit because he'd been too scared.

"Come _on_ Jeffy, it's coming back!" Cassie yelled from her hiding place by the trees. The bird was indeed coming about, turning in a slow arc towards Jeff and his crippled Pokemon. Without taking the time to feel disgusted, Jeff picked up his injured Bulbasaur, wincing as the blood ran down his arms, and took off for the nearby trees as fast as he could. His chest heaved with the exertion of carrying the reptile too and his arms ached, but the boy soldiered on, his eyes fixed on the relative safety of the copse. If he could get there somehow, they'd be safe.

But he was too tired from running around that afternoon, and his run faded away to be replaced with a jog. His eyesight blurred with exhaustion and Jeff almost dropped his precious cargo more than once. Cassie was screaming, the Squirtle was screaming, his Bulbasaur was panting and as Jeff tried to keep moving he heard a high-pitch screech that could only be the bird overhead coming in for the kill. _You won't get him_, Jeff thought suddenly, and without thinking about it the boy crouched to the ground, huddling over his Pokemon. _You won't have my Pokemon_, he thought in fierce defiance, even as the shadow darkened over him.

But instead of feeling the sudden pain of the talons digging into his flesh, Jeff instead felt heat at his back and a sudden loud _crack_ and smelled ozone. Something large and heavy thudded to the ground nearby and Jeff curled tighter around his Pokemon, but still nothing bad happened. _Am I okay?_ he wondered, lifting his head slightly to check. Cassie was still screaming, but instead of yelling encouragement she was on her knees, sobbing "Oh thank you, oh thank you," over and over again.

Before Jeff had a chance to think further, a sudden pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders. "You alright son?" a warm, friendly voice said. The young trainer looked up and into the smiling face of Jarrod, the local Pokemon Ranger. "Come on now, let's get you home."

"What…?" Jeff began, but as the man helped him up he noticed the unconscious and slightly blackened body of the bird lying on the ground a few yards away and Jarrod's Raichu standing nearby, eyeing it cautiously. _Thundershock_, he thought unconsciously. No wonder the bird hadn't finished its attack.

"Don't worry about it," Jarrod said upon seeing Jeff's gaze. "We'll take care of it once we've gotten you back to Pallet. Rai, grab the Bulbasaur." With an affirmative "_Rai rai!"_, the electric mouse scurried over to where Jeff's Pokemon lay, lifting it carefully up and laying it over its shoulder. With that taken care of, the small party moved out, trudging wearily home.

It wasn't until much later that Jarrod explained the day's events to Jeff. The bird that attacked was a Fearow, a large raptor that wasn't often seen on the coastal road that led to Pallet Town. Though they preferred the inland areas, Fearow had been known to seek easier prey on Route One and of late had been especially interested in the Grass-type Pokemon that young trainers took with them when they left town. Bulbasaur in particular were a favored meal of the birds and given their relative scarcity, Fearow had learned that it was easier to wait near Pallet Town and attack those that Professor Oak gave out. The Kantonese Ranger Corps kept a close eye on Route One for that reason, but every once in a while the large predators would slip past their watch and terrorize the new trainers. Jeff went home that night feeling more than a little shaky and scared, especially because his Bulbasaur was being treated at Professor Oak's lab. The next day however, and ever since that fateful encounter on Route One, Jeff found himself with an acute fear of birds of any kind.

* * *

><p>Okay, I'll stop scarring young trainers for life now. I hope xD Next chapter I'll try to do a feel-good piece to lighten the mood<p>

Fearow always seemed like Pidgeot's evil twin to me – they were nasty-looking, even in their first stage, and they liked appearing just when my Venusaur was in the middle of training and fscking everything up. I figure that Route One is probably a lot more diverse in terms of Pokemon than the games represent, because let's be honest, TWO species of Pokemon is a little low for any one route to have xD. The attack scene was relatively inspired, but the intro is a bit weak, as I'm sure you can tell. Also, longest chapter so far - woot!


	5. Bulbasaur

The professor's assistant arrived at twelve PM sharp, entering the PokeCenter with a confident stride and a small booklet tucked under one arm. At one of the nearby tables sat a trio of boys, each one attempting to appear calm and ready and failing miserably. They'd scarcely been able to sleep the night before, knowing what was going to happen today. Ever since they'd been selected by Professor Oak to receive a Pokemon, each of the boys had been eagerly awaiting the day when they'd find out what their choices were. Mark had adamantly insisted that they'd each get one of the three Legendary Birds and had already called dibs on Moltres, but Alan was saying that his older brother had received a Charmander and that there was no way the Professor could have captured the birds. Hal, for his part, was simply staying silent and hoping that there hadn't been some mistake when he'd been selected as one of the three trainers from Pallet Town. He'd never dreamed that his submission would be accepted by Professor Oak, let alone that he'd get one of the precious few starter Pokemon that were doled out every year or so.

But somehow Hal found himself here in the Pokemon Center, waiting for the aide to reveal their choices and hoping that it wasn't just a dream. _Any Pokemon will do_, he thought to himself quietly as he watched the white-coated man approach. _Just so long as I get one._

"Good morning boys," the man said with a cheerful smile at their eager expressions. "I'm sure you all know why I'm here, so I'll get right down to the point." He laid the small booklet on the table in front of them, turning it around so that they could read the title. Hal leaned forwards, barely able to read the neat black font that lined the upper half of the book: A Pokemon Trainer's Handbook. "Each of you will receive one of these when you get your Pokemon tomorrow," the man said, indicating the booklet. "This contains all of the information you'll need to get started on your journey. It includes a map, type charts, a brief species guide… but more on that tomorrow," he added hastily, noticing the increasingly restlessness of his charges. "For now, we're going to show you your choices for a starter Pokemon."

At this all three of the future trainers leaned forwards, waiting with baited breath. Hal swallowed nervously, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering more furiously than ever. The aide chuckled softly at the reaction, just before flipping the booklet open to a page. Three forms were displayed on it – a small green reptile with a bulb on its back, a cute blue turtle with a curly tail, and an orange lizard whose tail was on fire. "These three Pokemon are your choices," the scientist said. "This first one here is Bulbasaur, a Grass-type," he said, indicating the green reptile. "Next is Squirtle, a Water-type Pokemon"- the blue turtle – "and finally Charmander, a Fire-type" – the lizard. "We only have one of each though, so you each have to agree amongst each other who gets which. There's a detailed list of moves for each, a guide on raising, potential team members…" The aide's voice trailed off when he noticed that no one was listening. "Well, it's all in there, anyways," he finished, somewhat lamely. "You all can hold onto the booklet. If you have any questions, just come find me in the lab." With that, the white-coated man stood and walked away.

As soon as the assistant was out of sight, Alan and Mark began babbling excitedly to each other. "Which one do you wanna get?" Mark asked, staring at the page intently. "I think that Squirtle looks cool, how about you?"

Mark made a rude noise with his mouth. "Forget it," he said, as though anyone who thought Squirtle was cool was immature. "Charmander is _obviously_ the best one here. Fire-types are WAY better than any other type, my dad says so."

Alan looked at him askance. "Except for _Water_-types, obviously," he said, "and Squirtle _is_ a Water-type. Besides, look at that shell. It seems like it'd have pretty high defenses…"

"Defense is for cowards," Mark said, waving off Alan's comment. "If you hit them hard enough, you don't need to defend. Charmander's the guy to do it, _obviously_."

Alan shook his head. "What do you think, Hal?" he said, nudging the other boy's elbow. "Squirtle or Charmander?"

Hal had been totally silent during the other's exchange, instead evaluating each of the Pokemon in turn. Charmander looked too dangerous to care for – its tail was on fire, for Arceus's sake, and the boy didn't like the look of those claws. Squirtle was slightly better, he guessed, but Hal had overheard his mom talking with a friend about a gang called the "Squirtle Squad" once, which certainly didn't make them seem too friendly. But the Bulbasaur…

"I like that one," Hal said, pointing to the green Pokemon. "It looks powerful, don't you think?" He wasn't sure if it really was strong or not – he hadn't heard much about it before – but it _looked_ more friendly than either of the other two, and easier to care for to boot.

Mark gave Hal an awkward look before bursting out laughing. "You're kidding, right?" he said, chuckling. "That thing's a _wimp!_ Just look at it – it looks more like it's ready to do some gardening than win some Gym badges. Charmander would roast that thing in two seconds flat." He shook his head, fresh outbursts of laughter already racking his body. "Maybe you should stay home, Hal. You're obviously no good as a trainer and you haven't even left town yet."

Alan didn't laugh, but he gave his friend a pitying look. "You sure?" he asked, though the tone of his voice was clearly disapproving. "I mean, it doesn't look all that tough at all. It hasn't got a shell or anything for protection, nor does it have claws to attack with. All it's got is that little bulb on its back, and what good is that in a fight?" He gave Hal a sorry smile. "Maybe if you kept it at home as pet, it'd be good, but I don't think a Bulbasaur would last long on the road."

Hal flinched under the sudden barrage of negativity directed at his choice. He looked down at his lap, clutching his hands together and wishing he hadn't said anything. "I guess," he said with a noncommittal shrug. He privately still felt that Bulbasaur was the better choice, but maybe the others were right. He could get used to a Charmander just as well, maybe, or even a Squirtle too. _Who needs Bulbasaur?_ he thought to himself as the other two continued their debate.

"Ah shoot, I gotta get home," Mark said, looking up suddenly at the clock. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, alright? I got dibs on the Charmander, don't forget that." He stood up, leaving the book where it lay on the table.

"Me too," Alan said, snagging the small white booklet from where Mark has left it. "Make sure you guys are on-time tomorrow, I don't want to have to leave without you."

Hal was quiet for a few seconds as his friends prepared to leave, screwing up the courage to say something. Just as the other two started making their way towards the door, the boy finally stood up, running quickly to catch up to the others. "What if I want Charmander?" he asked hesitantly to the other two. _It'll be way better than being stuck with Bulbasaur._

Mark gave him another look. "I already called it," he said snobbishly. "You can have Squirtle, or that weak plant guy, if you want, but not Charmander. He's mine. My dad's friends with Professor Oak, he'll make you give it to me anyways."

"Then what about Squirtle? Can I have that one?" Hal asked desperately, looking at Alan this time.

The older boy shrugged. "I was thinking about taking it, but I guess we'll have to decide that tomorrow morning," he said casually. "Just make sure you get there early enough and I don't think you'll have to worry about it, Hal."

Hal turned away, letting the two other boys walk on ahead while he trailed back a few yards. _I can't be late_, he thought to himself, sticking his hands in his pockets. _I gotta wake up on time so that I can get Charmander or Squirtle_. Being stuck with Bulbasaur would be terrible, wouldn't it?

* * *

><p>Hal sprang awake all at once, heart pounding and breathing hard. He'd had a terrible nightmate – he'd overslept and by the time he'd gotten to Oak's all of the Pokemon were gone. The boy scrabbled for his alarm clock, holding the little face close so he could see the hands. "Oh no," he moaned softly when he realized what the time was. "Oh NO." The nightmare was coming true. He'd overslept by half an hour. <em>The others will have been and gone already<em>, he thought as he leapt out of bed, throwing on the nearest clothes that could find. _Well, maybe they waited to pick. They'd wait for me, right?_ Hal desperately hoped it was so. His only chance to be a good trainer was to end up with one of the two Pokemon they'd discussed the other day.

The boy flew out of the house as fast as his feet would carry him, brushing past his mother and skipping breakfast. His chest heaved with exertion as he sprinted down the streets of Pallet Town, heading for the familiar whitewashed building that served as Professor Oak's laboratory. _Please, let them still be there_, he thought desperately. _Let them have waited, let there be another Charmander, don't make me take the grass one…_ He took the steps leading up to the lab two at a time, crashing through the door wildly and racing to the back of the room past alarmed scientists and complicated machinery. He'd been to Oak's office before, back when the researcher has chosen him to receive a Pokemon, and he remembered the route by heart. The door to Oak's private room appeared and Hal seized the handle, wrenching the wooden frame open and entering the room as it banged shut behind him.

The famous Pokemon professor himself was seated at a computer terminal near one of the walls, reading something on the screen. The sudden appearance of Hal caused him to look up in surprise from his work. "Ah, good to see you Hal," he said with a warm smile, standing up from the monitor and walking over. "You're a little late, you know. Your friends have already come and gone."

Hal's heart clenched in his chest at the old man's words. "I'm here for my Pokemon, professor," he said, trying to stay calm. _Maybe he's got two_, he thought anxiously. _He gets a new Pokemon every year for someone, right? He _must_ have two_.

Oak chuckled at the boy's breathless request. "You'll get your starter, don't worry about that," he said, walking over to a nearby machine. At the press of a button the silvery doors swung open, revealing a single Pokeball. "Here we are," the old man said as he removed the red-and-white sphere and pressed the release button. With a loud sound and a burst of red light, a Pokemon appeared on the floor of Oak's lab.

It was Bulbasaur.

Hal felt as though the floor had dropped from underneath him. He tried to remember his manners, to say "thank you Professor" like he'd been taught and to take the Pokemon, but the words wouldn't come out. All he could do was stare at the tiny green reptile with an overwhelming sense of disbelief and shame. His friend's words from yesterday came back to him and Hal suddenly felt like crying. He couldn't be a trainer with that thing. He couldn't go on an adventure, or beat Gym Leaders, or catch other Pokemon with that puny little thing. As he stood there in Oak's office, still panting from his mad dash earlier and staring at the Bulbasaur, Hal had the feeling that his Pokemon journey was over before it had even started.

"What's wrong Hal?" Oak asked, his voice slightly lower than usual with concern. "I thought you'd enjoy this one. After all, it seemed to suit you more than either of the other two Pokemon."

Hal started. He'd forgotten all about the professor. "Do you have another Charmander?" he asked hopefully, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. He knew he was being terribly rude, but if it got him a better Pokemon…

But Oak was shaking his head. "They're quite rare, as I'm sure you've heard," he said kindly. "I can usually only find one a year, and even then that's a strain. Bulbasaur's a good choice though. It'll be much better than the other two for you." As if on cue the reptile yawned, letting out a quiet cry of "_Bulba_" as it stretched its legs.

Hal looked down at the ground to hide his red face. "I don't want it," he mumbled softly, as though hoping the professor wouldn't hear him. He'd have to go home and explain to his parents why he didn't have a Pokemon, but it was better than the alternative.

There was a brief pause. Hal heard the sound of the Oak's coat swishing softly as the professor sat down in a nearby chair. "I see," the old man said softly. "What did the boys say to you about Bulbasaur?"

The sudden question caught Hal off guard, and he glanced up in spite of himself. "They – they said it was stupid," he mumbled, looking back at the clean white tiles underfoot.

Oak chuckled softly at the comment. "Did they now?" he asked. "I guess it's nothing I haven't heard before, at least. Every kid your age who comes in here asking for a Pokemon wants Charmander, it seems. Failing that, they take Squirtle. It seems very few ever want Bulbasaur – with a few exceptions, of course.

"Let me tell you something, Hal – Pokemon isn't about winning or losing the most battles. It isn't about claiming more badges than the others, or even really about battling at all. What is important is traveling and bonding with your Pokemon – your friends. And would you want to spend time with friends that you didn't like, or didn't get along with? I don't think so.

"Charmander wouldn't suit you at all. They're brash and impulsive, and love running off ahead of their trainers without warning. They're hard to train, especially since they won't fight anything they think isn't challenging enough, and they're a fire hazard. I've heard too many tales of young boys like yourself who've burned tents down because they weren't careful. Nor would Squirtle fit you well – they're easier to handle than Charmander, but they have a mischievous streak and unless their owner can get a handle on them right away they become impossible to deal with."

"But Bulbasaur? Bulbsaur are stout, hardy friends. They don't mind moving slowly, if that's the pace their trainer sets for them, and they don't need to eat very often – the plant helps with that. They're reliable partners in a bad situation and willing to cooperate with any orders they receive, regardless of how outlandish and far-fetched they might be. But more than that, a Bulbasaur loves a master who doesn't feel the need to prove that he's right, nor someone who overthinks every difficulty. They love trainers who love them for who they are and who journey with them simply for the companionship. That's why I think this Pokemon is for you, Hal."

A silence fell as the professor stopped talking. Hal looked up at the old man carefully to make sure he was done. Oak was paying no attention to the boy, though – he was staring off into space, his face bright with the memories of years since past, of his lifetime's many journeys and pitfalls. As Hal gazed at the professor, something rubbed against his leg. The boy looked down to find the Bulbasaur gently nuzzling him, eyes closed in satisfaction. "_Bulba?_" it said quizzically as it looked up and found Hal looking back at it. The young boy smiled then, and unbidden tears came to his eyes.

"Thank you professor," he said softly as he reached down and gently touched the rough hide of the Grass Pokemon. "I choose you, Bulbasaur." The plant Pokemon didn't respond, but something in the way it looked back at him made Hal believe it understood his words. "_Bulbasaur_," it responded, almost solemnly.

Hal grinned. He looked up to verify his choice with Professor Oak, but the man was already looking at him, a small smile on his face. "He's yours," the scientist replied, waving his hand. "Get out there already, your friends have a long ways on you already." With an excited whoop Hal made for the door, ripping it open again and heading back out into the lab with his new Bulbasaur at his heels. His Pokemon journey was just starting and he didn't want to miss a thing.

* * *

><p>As it turns out, I CAN write stories about kids and not torment them xD<p>

To be honest, my first Pokemon game was started with a Charmander at the behest of my cousin, who thought he knew everything about Pokemon. The funny part is that I actually DIDN'T like the lizard at all and restarted the game to choose a new Pokemon. My Venusaur was with me during my first ever game clear and even today holds a special place in my heart amongst all Pokemon old and new alike. Shame that the whole family doesn't get enough love from other fans, but hey - that's why I'm here to correct it, right? ;)

Don't worry though - I WILL get to the other two Kanto starters one of these days. I love me some Charizard just as much as the next guy. I won't promise that it won't involve small children though xD


	6. Magnemite

"Magnemite? Man, I tell you one thing – those things are annoyin' as piss. We get 'em all over the plant, just floating around lookin' at shit and screwing up the systems thanks to the EM fields they project. Seems like at least twice a day I find myself blocked out of a corridor 'cause of one o' them Magnemites floating in the way. They don't move either, not with you yellin' at and stampin' your foot. They just sit there, totally oblivious to what you're doing, until they've decided they're done with whatever the hell it is they're doin. Can't do anything 'bout it neither. I'd send my Cubone at 'em, but if you start a fight they get mad and start sparkin' up the joint. Wrecks the whole plant, it can. Boss man says to 'deal with 'em', but hell, that's not a solution. "

Hugh Jackson, worker at the Kanto Power Plant

"Both Magnemite and its evolutionary relatives are enigmas. We've learned quite a lot about them over the years, but they still keep many secrets. It was a long while before we even pinned down their typing. Initially, Professor Oak hypothesized that they must be Electric-types, given their weakness to Ground-based attacks. It was a sound conjecture, given what we knew about them. After all, Magnemite rarely shows any signs of being in pain even when hit with a super-effective move – it _is _a mechanical being. Oak was eventually corrected by experiment, but there's still a lot that we don't know. For example, I've kept track of the Magnemite population in this power station for a short time now and they seem to be interested in the strangest things. I once saw a Magnemite float down a row of probably about two hundred meters, reading each one before moving to the next. At another time, I witnessed a Magnemite watching the turbines for over two hours straight without moving from its position. We've tried studying them, but they respond to stimuli in ways unlike almost any other species. It makes for frustratingly difficult research."

-Scientist Daniel Nickelson, an aide for Professor Oak

"..Despite Magnemite's ability to float over the ground using electromagnetism, many have wondered over its crippling weakness to Ground-type moves. The answer to this is remarkably simple: Magnemite are simply too heavy to attain the necessary altitude to avoid many Ground-based attacks. While the EM fields they use to move allow them some degree of flight, tests have shown that it simply is unable to reach a height of more than five feet above the ground, with each consecutive evolutionary stage attaining a lower maximum height. Many Ground-types are able to target enemies at that height, regardless of the move used. Flying-types are able to clear such altitudes and therefore are largely untouched by such techniques, but Magnemite – as well as other Pokemon that rely on EM fields to move, such as Forretress – are not so lucky."

-Kanto Pokedex entry on Magnemite

"What about it? I've had this guy for a while now, probably since I left Ecruteak. He's been a solid member of the team, I'm not gonna lie. Takes a beating from most every Pokemon out there and hits harder than almost anything else. I can't count the times I've switched him in on a move and watched him take it without even flinching, then hammering the other guy's poor Pokemon with Thunderbolt or Discharge. It's crazy to watch. He's a bitch to train though, lemme tell you. Seems like half the time he's out of the Pokeball he's wandering around, looking at random shit. I've gotten him to at least respond to a few commands, but if he sees something 'interesting', like a bunch of power cables or an oddly shaped flower, he's totally oblivious.

"What's that? Why am I calling him a he? Because he's a guy, dumbass."

-Ashe, Johtan Pokemon trainer

* * *

><p><span>Author's Notes:<span> And we're back, this time with one of my personal favorites. I love the thing – used it in my HeartGold version to great success thanks to 12 resistances and one immunity, plus having the fourth-highest Special Attack stat of any Pokemon I've ever trained. They're very interesting Pokemon too, especially given their peculiar quirks (i.e. not having Levitate, being able to breed despite having no gender, signature ability, etc.). If you've never played with one before, I recommend you check one out.

Next update will likely involve one of the two Kanto starters I haven't done yet, so if you guys wanna give a shoutout to your personal favorite, go right ahead. I can't choose xD


End file.
